


Professor Gilderoy Lockhart

by FantasticNumberNine



Series: John Watson and the Chamber of Secrets [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Cornish Pixies, Crossover, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gen, Herbology, Potterlock, howlers, signed photos, timetables, with little hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticNumberNine/pseuds/FantasticNumberNine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luckily for John, Gilderoy Lockhart is at Hogwarts and very willing to guide him on his path to fame. Or something thereabouts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor Gilderoy Lockhart

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer*
> 
> Gilderoy Lockhart is one of those golden characters whose lines are very hard to alter.

"... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET A HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..."

Mrs. Lestrade's magically amplified voice echoed through the Great Hall, and everyone was turned to stare at Gryffindor table, looking for the unfortunate recipient of the Howler. Greg's face was dark red as he slid down his chair, hoping to avoid notice and failing.

"... WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND JOHN COULD HAVE BOTH DIED..."

John had been wondering when his name was going to crop up, and he gripped his fork tighter to better concentrate on his breakfast.

"... IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Silence dropped over the Great Hall and the red envelope burst into flames. Mycroft, who'd been reading _Voyages With Vampires_ , closed his book and looked down at Greg, who was now mostly under the table.

"I don't know what you were expecting, Gregory, but--"

"Don't tell me I deserved it, you great prat."

Thankfully, Mycroft let it go, and their trip down to the greenhouses was mercifully free from tension.

The same could not be said for the rest of the day.

Gilderoy Lockhart, in immaculate and sweeping turquoise robes and gold-trimmed hat, had kidnapped John. 

"John. John, John, John."

John stared at him.

"When I heard--well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."

"Sorry, what--"

Lockhart spoke right over him, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. John, John, _John_."

John blinked, wondering briefly if one could be blinded by someone's teeth.

"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I? Gave you the _bug_. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Er, no, actually, Professor--"

"John, John, John," Lockhart grasped his shoulder. "I _understand_."

John closed his eyes, valiantly tuning the man out until he was freed to attend Herbology, where he joined Greg, Mycroft, and a Hufflepuff named Henry Knight.

"I know who you are, of course, the famous John Watson... And you're Mycroft Holmes--smartest in our year..." (John stomped down on Mycroft's foot before he could respond) "And Greg Lestrade. Did you really fly a car here?"

Greg grumbled, the Howler obviously still on his mind.

"That Lockhart's something isn't he? Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books?"

It was Mycroft's turn to stomp on John's foot.

"My Da was a bit worried--he doesn't like the supernatural very much--he's a muggle. But I convinced him to read Lockhart's books, so he's begun to see how useful having a fully trained wizard in the family would be..."

There wasn't much time to talk after that, and by the end of class, everyone was sweaty, aching, and covered in dirt. There was just enough time to wash up before Transfiguration, and then it was lunch, where Greg moped over his broken wand.

"Write home for another one--"

"Right, and get another Howler--' _it's your own fault your wand got snapped!_ ' No thanks."

"What've we got this afternoon?" John asked as they sat down at Gryffindor table.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Mycroft said immediately.

Greg seized his timetable. " _Why_ have you circled all of Lockhart's lessons with little hearts?"

Mycroft made to snatch his schedule back, but Greg held it just out of reach.

" _Give it back_!"

"Not a chance Myc, I'm keeping this for posterity!"

John sighed at his potatoes as Greg dashed out of the hall, Mycroft close behind him, before setting down his fork and following his friends.

They ended up in the courtyard, Greg was covered in dirt again but smirking, and Mycroft was his usual impeccable self--if a bit red in the face behind _Voyages With Vampires_. John talked quidditch with Greg for a while before feeling like someone was watching him.

A tiny, mousy-haired boy was staring at him, transfixed, and clutching an ordinary muggle camera. He went bright red when he noticed John looking back at him before stumbling forward.

"All right, John? I'm--I'm Colin Creevey, I'm in Gryffindor too. D'you think--would it be all right if--can I have a picture?" The boy, Colin, asked, holding up his camera hopefully.

John blinked, "A picture?"

"So I can prove I met you, I know all about you, everyone's told me! And a boy in my dormitory said that if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move_! It's brilliant here, isn't it? I never knew all the weird stuff I did was magic till I got my letter--my dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either so I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him and it'd be really good if I had one of you--oh! Maybe your friend could take it, and I could stand next to you? And then, then, could you sign it?"

John had been staring at Colin with his mouth hanging open until Jim Moriarty's loud and scathing voice echoed around the courtyard.

" _Signed photos_? You're giving out _signed photos_ , Watson?" He came to stand directly behind Colin. "Everyone queue up! John Watson is giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," John said, fists clenching. 

"You're just jealous!" Colin piped up, and John fought the urge to strangle both of them.

" _Jealous_? Of what? I don't want a hideous scar right across my head--anyone can crack their head open if they're stupid enough, you aren't special."

"Eat slugs, Moriarty!" Greg had stepped in.

"Careful, Lestrade, you don't want to start any trouble or your mummy will have to come and take you home." His voice went shrill and piercing, " _If you put another toe out of line_ \--"

A group of older Slytherins nearby laughed loudly.

"Lestrade would like a signed photo, Watson. It'd be worth more than his family's whole house."

Greg whipped out his wand--Spellotaped and all--but Mycroft snapped his book shut and hissed, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"

John groaned--his day could not get any worse. 

Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, John!"

Moriarty slid with a smirk back into the crowd as John contemplated throwing himself to the mercies of the Whomping Willow.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey, a double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you!"

Colin snapped a photo just as the bell rang and Lockhart shooed the other students off to class, keeping his arm firmly around John.

"A word to the wise, John, I covered up for you back there with young Creevey--"

John snorted.

"Handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible--looks a tad bigheaded, John, to be frank. There may come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but--" Lockhart chortled, "I don't think you're quite there yet."

They'd reached Lockhart's class and John was let go--at last. He stormed through to the back of the classroom and stacked all seven of Lockhart's books on front of him, determined not to look at the real thing. As the rest of the class arrived, Greg and Mycroft sat on either side of him.

When the class was seated, Lockhart held up Molly Hooper's copy of _Traveling with Trolls_ and pointed at the cover.

"Me," he winked. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award--but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the abandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!"

There were a few weak smiles and John silently thudded his head down on his desk, Greg looked ready to do the same.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books--well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about--just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

Given leave to start, John looked down at his paper to read:

_1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour? 2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? 3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

It went on for three pages until:

_54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

John set down his quill, leaving his quiz entirely blank.

"Tut, tut--hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in _Year with a Yeti_. And a few of you need to read _Wandering with Werewolves_ more carefully--I clearly state in chapter twelve my ideal birthday gift--though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky!"

He gave them a roguish wink. Greg was staring at Lockhart in complete disbelief and Dean Thomas was shaking with laughter in the front with Seamus Finnegan. Mycroft, on the other hand, was staring raptly at Lockhart, and startled when he mentioned his name.

"Mister Mycroft Holmes knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions--good boy! In fact, full marks! Where is Mister Mycroft Holmes?"

Mycroft stood, a _giddy_ expression on his face.

"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor! And so, to business!"

John tugged Mycroft back into his seat and Greg leaned forward to stare at him in mild disgust.

"Now--be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of himself, John leaned forward to get a better look at the covered cage Lockhart had placed on his desk.

Cornish pixies. John sat back in his chair.

"Let's see what you make of them!"

It was pandemonium. When the bell rang there was a mad scramble for the door, and John, Greg, and Mycroft had nearly reached it before Lockhart tasked them with catching the pixies and swept out, shutting the door behind him.

"Can you _believe_ him?" Greg shouted, as a pixie bit his ear painfully.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," Mycroft said, using a Freezing Charm to immobilize several pixies at once before stuffing them back in their cage.

" _Hands on_? Mycroft, he didn't have a clue what he was doing!" John dodged a pixie flying at his face.

"Ridiculous--you've read his book--look at all the incredible things he's done!" 

"He _says_ he's done," Greg muttered.

**Author's Note:**

> Mycroft is completely in denial...


End file.
